


Peace and Quiet

by thelittlestwolf



Series: Peace and Quiet [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, M/M, coffee shop AU, sterek au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:01:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlestwolf/pseuds/thelittlestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Derek wanted was some coffee and a little peace and quiet. Instead he found hot chocolate and the endless, yet witty banter of one Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! Just a little cross posting from my tumblr [thelittlestwolf](http://www.thelittlestwolf.tumblr.com/)  
> Thanks for all the comments and support!   
> This is one in particular is dedicated to my sweet angel face [Casey](http://www.haleofatime.tumblr.com/)

The Hale house was loud, which Derek found quite ironic. It sat buried amidst trees in the middle of Beacon Hills preserve so for miles around the house, it was just pure, blissful quiet. But open the front door and the silence is shattered by the noisy chaos of werewolves and humans alike. 

It seemed like an endless flow of humans, werewolves, and other supernatural creatures bustled in and out and around the Hale house. It wasn’t unusual for the home of the Alpha family to be busy, but the Hale family was so large on its own that even one extra person made it feel crowded and claustrophobic. Neighboring packs came with treaties and negotiations, or sometimes they just came over because Uncle Peter could cook a roast that smelled so good mouths watered three counties over. 

Derek didn’t mind pack business that his parents and relatives handled. He understood the responsibility of being part of the Alpha family. He didn’t mind that his dining room table was constantly piled with papers and laptops and old books that even he wouldn’t try to understand. He didn’t mind that sometimes the doorbell rang before the sun came up or well after the moon had risen. Derek didn’t even mind when he woke up with one of his little sisters or cousins tucked in his bed beside him because they needed another guest room for unexpected visitors.

But Derek really minded when people came to his house to ask him out. 

He really, really minded. 

He tried to spend most of his time up in his room reading whatever he could get his hands on, completely out of the way, yet still available should someone need him. But every so often that doorbell would ring for him and since he could only handle Laura’s constant nagging for so long, he would have to emerge from his “cave,” as she so affectionately called it, and greet his caller. 

Derek would politely decline every offer, from a dinner invitation from a strikingly handsome blonde boy to a beach trip with a quiet but beautiful red-headed girl. Most of them were werewolves who just wanted to be with the Alpha family; some were humans that just knew the Hales were an eccentric family with a ridiculous fortune despite the fact that they all lived in the same house. 

One day, the doorbell rang nine times for Derek. Nine times. So when he heard Laura calling his name for the ninth time that day, Derek climbed out his second story window, scaled down the side of his house, and begrudgingly headed into town. 

Aside from attending school, which he no longer did as of high school graduation the previous year, Derek rarely went into town. Going to town meant talking to people and talking to people meant answering questions and answering questions usually meant hours of talking about his family. Not that Derek didn’t love his family because he did. More than anything else in the world Derek loved his family. But these people didn’t love his family quite like he did. They loved the money or the power and probably couldn’t care less how many little siblings Derek had, much less their names. 

Derek wandered around downtown Beacon Hills on that Monday afternoon. Because Beacon Hills was so small, downtown was just a street lined with small stores and coffee shops. He strategically kept his head lowered and the collar on his leather jacket up so people wouldn’t recognize him. He ducked into the last coffee shop on the corner, hoping he could find some peace and quiet. 

Instead, Derek found Allison Argent smiling at him from behind the counter.

Allison Argent, the niece of Kate Argent, the crazy chick who Derek had actually said yes to when she came to ask him on a date. Even worse, he actually dated her for a while because he actually liked her. And he thought she liked him too until she started asking too many questions about his family and their money, Derek broke it off, and she tried to burn his house down with everyone inside. Luckily, the Beacon HIlls police and fire departments got there in time to save everyone. 

Ever since then, Derek declined everyone that came to his door. 

“Hi.” Allison said, looking nervously at Derek. He hadn’t bothered to take more than two steps into the shop in case he decided it was a bad idea and he needed to run. “Derek, right?” 

“Yeah.” He answered, still not bothering to move. The coffee shop was empty save for him, Allison, and two boys studying in the corner so he didn’t feel rushed to make a decision.

“Can I get you something? We have really good hot chocolate…” Allison offered and to Derek’s surprise, she actually seemed genuine. He took one more step forward. 

“Sure. Thanks.” Derek replied, slowly starting to feel comfortable. Soft music played overhead and the ceiling twinkled with star-shaped lights and Derek wasn’t going to say anything about using the word “twinkled” in his mind to anyone ever.

He looked to find Allison, wanting an indication of where to sit but she had disappeared somewhere behind the counter so he did the logical, rational thing. Derek sat at the table on the complete opposite side of the store from the two studying boys. They sat safely tucked away in the back corner, so Derek took a table in the front corner, away from the window, shielded from the door by a bookshelf lined with books, magazines, and board games. 

“Here you go,” Allison said with a smile as she sat a mug of hot chocolate down in front of him. 

“Thanks.” Derek said, offering her a half smile that just made Allison beam. He started pulling out his wallet, but she waved her hands to stop him

“No, no. First one is on the house. I’m Allison, but I think you already know that. Um, I just wanted to… my family isn’t crazy. And I’m sorry.” She stammered, fidgeting nervously with the edge of her coffee-stained apron. 

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Derek repeated, not expecting any of that to be brought up again. But he couldn’t help but appreciate her candidness and compassion because Allison clearly understood how odd it was that Derek was not only in town, but sitting in a coffee shop.

“Absolutely. If you need anything else, just let me know.” She smiled once more, this time with confidence, as she turned and went back to her place behind the counter. Derek still wondered if any of this was a good idea at all. 

He stopped wondering after his first sip of the hot chocolate which was eight hundred times more delicious than Allison let on. He stopped wondering completely when he pulled his copy of The Great Gatsby out of his back pocket and started to read. 

Derek sat and read for what seemed like, and actually was, hours. He drank three more mugs of hot chocolate, finished his book, and pulled a worn copy of Hamlet off the shelf behind him. People came and went went but no one bothered him. He had peace. And quiet. 

Who knew peace and quiet tasted like chocolate and smelled like coffee and old books. 

Derek hadn’t bothered to acknowledge anyone who came in the door until Allison’s excited voice made him look up.

“Hey Scott!” She called from behind the counter. Derek looked up to see two boys walk in, one with shaggy brown hair, the other with a short buzzcut. He had to identify them by their hairstyles as the bookshelf prevented him from seeing anything else. 

“Hey.” The shaggy-haired boy said, sauntering up to the counter, leaning towards Allison, and kissing her. He must have been Scott.

“Oh, gross. Get a room.” The other boy said as he pretended to gag. Derek had to agree. Scott and Allison seemed pretty gag-worthy. In a good way. 

“Shut up, man. You ready to go?” Scott asked Allison as he reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. The other boy gagged again. Derek just rolled his eyes and turned back to his book.

“Yeah, just give me one second.” She said as she turned away when the other boy caught her arm. 

“Pst. Allison. Allison. Hey, Allison.” 

“Yes?”

“Who is that over there in the corner.”

Derek felt his face get hot. He didn’t dare to look up this time. 

“No.” Allison said. Derek flipped a page of his book and thought about the huge tip he was going to give Allison. 

“Come on, Allison.”

“No. You leave him alone.” 

“He looks lonely! I just want to talk to him. Maybe he needs a friend.”

“That friend is not you. So let’s go, I’m ready to go now, no, St- don’t!” 

Derek looked up this time to see why Allison’s voice had grown so harsh and was met with two big, brown eyes and a huge grin. 

“Hi. I’m Stiles.”


	2. Chapter 2

Derek just stared at the boy who had intruded on his peace and quiet. His brow was furrowed and his jaw was tense and the way Derek’s hand started to grasp at his jeans made him start to think that maybe coming into town and being around people was not such a great idea. 

People, he assumed. But what in the hell was a Stiles?

“Hi.” Stiles repeated, completely oblivious to Derek’s obviously uncomfortable, agitated demeanor. “What’s your name?” He asked innocently. 

Derek just continued to glare. Silently. Silence was the key, he thought. Silence spoke louder than words or actions ever could, though he was fighting back a pretty big urge to rip this punk’s throat out. With his teeth. But maybe if he didn’t say anything, this Stiles would leave and he could go back to reading his book. 

“Stiles, come on, man, let’s go. Leave the poor guy alone.” Scott pleaded. Even from across the room he could see that Derek wanted to be left alone. Derek respected that.

“I just want to know his name! I mean you know that’s how it works. I say my name, you say your name… Just a name. Or I’ll have to make one up for you myself.” Stiles said with a smile. 

And the craziest thing about it was that Derek couldn’t sense even the tiniest bit of deception. His heart beat was steady and aside from the obvious vibrating energy of a teenage boy, Derek didn’t feel any nervousness about him. He honestly just wanted to know Derek’s name. 

Derek started to relax. Kind of.

“Stiles. Leave him be. I’m so sorry, Derek…” Allison called from behind the counter, clapping her hand over her mouth at the slip. Stiles’ eyes lit up almost immediately. 

“Derek, huh? That’s a cool name. Well, Derek, I’ll leave you to your… Shakespeare there,” Stiles said, tilting his head to the side so he could read the title of Derek’s book. “It was nice to meet you.” 

And with that Stiles stood up from the table, tapped it twice as if to say goodbye, and went back over to his friends. Derek went back to reading, but he had to fight back a smile when he heard Stiles’ “ow!” when Scott punched him in the shoulder.

“Hey! Stop. Made out of sarcasm and fragile bones here, man. Watch the merchandise.” Stiles whispered harshly.

“Stiles, you shouldn’t have…” Allison started, but Stiles promptly cut her off.

“Yes I should have. Someone should have. No one should have to sit alone. Everyone needs a friend. Unfortunately, moving here stuck me with you two…” Stiles explained as the three left the coffee shop and Derek was left in his corner wondering what the hell just happened. 

… 

Derek left the coffee shop just before they closed and took the long way home through the woods. The woods made him feel safe and free. In the woods, he could be either wolf or man, but he didn’t feel pressure to choose. Sometimes he howled, sometimes he just walked in silence, but no matter what Derek felt comfortable and at home in these woods where no one was there to see. 

Or ask him his name. 

No one had bothered him the rest of the afternoon. Not even the quiet boy that had replaced Allison when her shift ended. Derek didn’t even learn his name until someone else came in and shouted “Hey, Isaac!” to which the quiet boy merely nodded and smiled. There was a story there, Derek was sure, and maybe one day he would figure it out. But he could only figure out one thing at a time and the first thing on his mind was Stiles. 

Not even in a good way. In a who the hell does he think he is kind of way. Who goes up to complete strangers, sits down, and just asks their name? Derek might have been a little socially awkward, but even he knew that people didn’t just do that. But then again, people. Not Stiles. 

Derek couldn’t shake the memories of Stiles the whole walk home. He ignored Laura’s questions and chides when he walked in, went straight up to his room, and shut the door. The only thing Derek managed to do before he collapsed on his bed was kick his shoes off, scattering them across the room. Derek was tired. 

Derek just had a normal day, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. And normal was entirely exhausting.

…

The next day the doorbell rang only eight times for Derek before he climbed out the window, grabbed two books this time, and went to the coffee shop. Allison was there again, already making a mug of hot chocolate the second she saw him walk through the door. 

“This one’s on the house too. Sorry about Stiles.” She said with a small apologetic smile as she poured the drink into a mug and slid it across the counter. 

“It’s okay.” Derek shrugged, not wanting Allison to feel bad. He kind of liked Allison, even if he didn’t know her that well. 

“He’s really not that bad, I swear. He’s actually pretty sweet. It’s just… he’s new to town… I mean his dad’s the Sheriff and it’s kind of a long story… A sad story, really… This is too much information that I’m giving you, so your next hot chocolate is on the house too.” Allison stopped talking and looked up at Derek, obviously uncomfortable with the amount of information she had just shared with a near stranger. A moment of awkward silence hung in the air between them. 

“His name is… Stiles… Stilinski?” Derek offered, after taking a sip of his hot chocolate. The drinks were free, so the least he could do was oblige her with conversation. 

Derek knew the Sheriff. He came by the house often to talk to his parents. Derek had even met him a few times, shared politely uncomfortable small talk. He didn’t know the Sheriff was even married, let alone had a son. 

“Yeah,” Allison said with a laugh. “Stiles isn’t his first name though. His first name is…”

“So, you’re talking about me, huh?” A voice asked from behind Derek. He didn’t need to turn around when he saw Allison roll her eyes. 

“Always, Stiles. Always.”

“Thanks for the drink.” Derek said as he turned and took the mug back to his usual table.

He had only been there one time but he already had a usual table on account of not many people came to this coffee shop because their coffee was crap. Their hot chocolate was good but not many teenage boys would openly admit to drinking hot chocolate on the regular, so Derek had a usual table because he just didn’t care what anyone thought. 

“So you finished Hamlet?” Stiles said, sliding into his usual seat across from Derek except for no because Stiles definitely did not have a regular seat. 

Derek said nothing. 

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. I’m guessing you like to read because I don’t know anyone who just sits down with a copy of Hamlet and says, ‘I think I’ll read this today.’ I mean, you have to be kind of an English nerd to enjoy that in your free time.” 

Derek said nothing, but he did look up to glare at the insinuation that he was a nerd of any kind made by some stranger with nice brown eyes. 

Just regular brown eyes. 

“A-ha! So you are listening to me! Great. So, after finishing Hamlet you’re reading…” Stiles said, tilting his head to the side to read the title of the next book. “To Kill a Mockingbird? What are you, a high school English class? What other books do you read, like the Odyssey and Lord of the Flies? You’ve got to branch out a little, man… Read an autobiography or something. Maybe even a comic book.” 

Derek said nothing as Stiles talked at him. First he recommended other books for Derek to read, and as much as Derek tried not to listen to him, he couldn’t help but make a mental list of all the ones he hadn’t read. To his surprise, Stiles apparently liked to read as well, though Derek had a hard time imagining Stiles sitting still and quiet for a long enough time to even read a single chapter, let alone an entire book. 

After that, Stiles expanded on comic books, which he knew a lot about. He started with the origins of Marvel comics, which he apparently read about in a book his mother gave him, and went all the way to his commentary on the latest superhero movies. Derek made a mental note to watch those too. 

Eventually, Stiles got thirsty and got hot chocolate for himself and a refill for Derek, even though Derek had ignored him for the better part of two hours. 

Derek was starting to realize that as much as he wanted to hate this annoying, chattering… Stiles, that wasn’t going to be an option.


	3. Chapter 3

The doorbell rang exactly seven times the next day before Derek left his house. Or at least that’s what he told himself as he did his usual routine of window, woods, and walking into the coffee shop. This time he actually brought a backpack just in case… someone… showed up and decided to talk his ear off, so at least this time he wouldn’t have to read the last chapter of his book seven times just to make it seem like he wasn’t paying attention. 

Allison smiled at him when he entered, hot chocolate in hand. Derek reached for his wallet. 

“Someone already paid.” She whispered and nodded towards his table in the corner. 

Derek turned only to find Stiles sitting at his table, flipping through a magazine, earbuds in his ears. He rolled his eyes and turned back to Allison. She didn’t quite manage to stifle her laugh.

“I can tell him to move if you want.” 

“It’s fine.” Derek grumbled as he took the hot chocolate, headed toward the table, and braced himself for the witty remarks of one Stiles Stilinski.

“So you came back for more, eh?” Stiles said, pulling the ear buds out and messily wrapping them around his iPod before shoving it into his pocket. Turns out the magazine wasn’t actually a magazine, but an old issue of The Amazing Spiderman, which looked as though it had probably been read a few times before. 

Derek wanted to say something about how this was his table or how Stiles was the one who had actually come back, but he stuck to his strict policy of silence and kept his mouth shut. As much as it pained him. 

Or maybe it didn’t really pain him that much at all. But he wasn’t going to admit that to anyone, not even himself. 

“So, I don’t know what you brought to read today, but oh look!” Stiles exclaimed, looking down at the comic book as if it had just magically appeared. “The Amazing Spiderman? Wow, this seems like a good one! I mean, I don’t know. You should probably read it… or something…” He said as he slowly slid the comic book across the table so it brushed against Derek’s finger tips. 

Derek glared at Stiles. Stiles stared back at him, one eyebrow raised. For a whole minute, neither of them said anything at all. Derek glared at Stiles, and Stiles just stared right back. 

And when Derek realized that Stiles wasn’t afraid of him, he relented. Most people were afraid of Derek. Or intimidated by him. But Stiles didn’t know him at all. He didn’t know anything other than his name was Derek, he apparently liked to drink hot chocolate, and he liked to read. 

Derek took the comic book, dropped his bag to the ground, and started to read as Stiles tried to contain his excitement.

Thus began a new routine for Derek. 

Every morning, he would think of an excuse to leave the house. Whether it was the doorbell ringing, the noise (or lack thereof), or the occasional smell of smoke that still made him a little sick to his stomach, Derek would sneak out. He always brought a backpack, but after a few days, he stopped bringing books together. After the first Spiderman comic, there was a second. Then a third. Then a fourth, fifth, sixth, until Stiles brought in a whole pile for Derek to take home with him. 

After Stiles felt Derek was well versed in Marvel comics, he brought a few issues of Batman. Derek would enter the coffee shop, and Allison would have his drink already made. Sometimes it was paid for; sometimes Derek owed her for two drinks. 

He really didn’t mind. 

Derek would read whatever Stiles brought him without ever saying a word. Stiles would be listening to music when he sat down, but the second Derek settled in, the earbuds would come out and the one sided conversation would begin. 

At first, Stiles just talked about comics and superheroes and books and movies. Derek always listened. Then, Stiles started to talk about his best friend Scott and Allison, and Derek still listened. Even as he flipped through the pages of Stiles’ latest recommendation, he managed to not miss a word the boy shared. Stiles talked about how strange it was to be new in town, but not really new in town. 

Derek learned that Stiles used to live in Beacon Hills when he was a kid. Stiles recalled a few things that had changed since then and even more that hadn’t changed at all. Something happened and Stiles went to live with his grandparents for a little while. Something happened, but Stiles never said what. 

Derek didn’t ask. 

Derek spent entire days at the coffee shop listening to Stiles. They went through countless mugs of hot chocolate and occasionally a scone or two. Stiles always talked without any inhibitions, as if sharing things with a complete stranger was normal and not terrifying at all. 

That’s why Derek listened. Derek always listened. 

He respected Stiles’ boldness. He respected his fearlessness and a little part of Derek wished he could have that back again. His horribly dysfunctional encounter with Kate left him wary of anyone who wanted to get to know him, or really anyone at all. But the way Stiles emanated confidence astounded him. 

After three weeks of one-sided conversation and Derek kicking himself the entire way home because of something Stiles said that he should have responded too or what did it mean when his hand accidentally brushed Stiles’ and it made Derek’s whole face feel hot or were all of these coffee shop meetings dates or should Derek ask Stiles out, Derek finally decided to stop kicking himself and talk back. 

The next morning, Derek went in the coffee shop fully prepared to answer a hundred questions and ask about a hundred more. Allison greeted him at the front corner and told him his total, but it was different. He only owed for one hot chocolate. 

Derek turned to find the table empty.

Their… his table sat alone and empty in the corner. And suddenly Derek couldn’t think of a damned thing he planned to say.

“Stiles, where’s Stiles?”


	4. Chapter 4

“I knew you liked him!” Allison screeched, nearly dropping a bin of dirty dishes as she went back to the counter to talk to Derek. 

Derek wasn’t amused.

Normally, he appeased Allison’s jokes and huffed, sighed, and rolled his eyes appropriately. She would always smile with a raised eyebrow when Derek ordered a muffin for Stiles without even asking because he already knew what his favorite kind was- chocolate chip. She would smile when she caught Derek looking back at Stiles as he sat at the table, drumming his fingers to whatever song was his favorite that week. Allison smiled all the time, but her smile for Derek and Stiles was a different kind of smile. A knowing smile, maybe. A hopeful smile. 

“Allison.” Derek couldn’t remember having ever said her name before as it felt foreign on his tongue. Allison’s smile faded.

“He’s not coming today. I thought he might have told you.” She said quietly. 

Derek shook his head. He listened to everything Stiles said. He would have remembered if Stiles had told him he wasn’t going to be there. And maybe it was crazy of Derek to assume that Stiles would always just be there, talking, laughing at his own jokes, and occasionally blushing when his one of hands accidentally brushed against Derek’s. 

Derek didn’t know what it meant at all. He didn’t know what he was feeling or if he should even be feeling it at all. He was dark and scary and closed, not even offering a single word to the boy that gave up his entire day to come and sit with him just because he felt that no one should sit alone. 

Derek didn’t want to sit alone anymore. Derek couldn’t sit alone anymore.

“I’m sorry, Derek. Today is… today isn’t a good day for him.”

“Why?” Derek asked before he could stop himself. Obviously if Allison could have told him she would have. 

“That’s not really my story to tell.” Allison replied. Derek could hear her heart beating slightly faster because she wanted to tell him about Stiles, but she was so loyal and trustworthy that she couldn’t. She wouldn’t betray Stiles’ trust.

“I understand.” Derek said. It pained him to give up but he couldn’t make Allison tell him and then feel guilty. Even if it pained him more to not know where Stiles was.

“Um, well, if you’re wanting to branch out, I can get you your usual to go and you can take it to the park. You might find someone who… well, maybe he shouldn’t be alone today either.” 

A small smile spread across Allison’s lips. Derek nodded swiftly and felt his own heartbeat quicken at the promise of seeing Stiles outside the coffee shop. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved that he didn’t even have to ask. 

Derek took two hot chocolates, thanked Allison, and left her a ridiculously large tip before leaving the coffee shop and heading back towards home. The park sat in between the Beacon Hills Reserve and the cemetery, which seemed like an odd place for a park but the town was just so small that they only had one place large enough to accommodate a park.

It was a nice park too; Derek had many fond memories of going there as a kid and playing with Laura. Always Laura and no one else. No one ever wanted to be friends with the strange, quiet boy with the crazy family. And when he would go to the park as a teenager, no one wanted to be friends with the strange, quiet, angry boy who got in fights at school because everyone talked about him, but never to him.

Derek just wanted someone to talk to him for once about something other than money or werewolves or dating. He wanted someone to talk to him about something real. 

He wanted Stiles.

Derek ran, or walked incredibly fast, to the park and even managed not to spill the hot chocolates. He didn’t drink his at all, not even a sip, because it didn’t seem right without Stiles. 

It took him five seconds and a deep breath to find Stiles sitting on a bench that was so far out of the way he was probably the only one who knew about it. His back was to Derek and he was so hunched over that Derek only recognized him by his signature red hoodie. And his scent- the sweet smell of sugar and the musky scent of old books. But Derek wouldn’t ever admit that he knew his scent. 

Derek found himself five feet away from Stiles before he stopped moving. He almost dropped the drinks and ran in the other direction. He had heard the unmistakable sniffling sound and had just assumed it was because lately the weather had been unseasonably cold and Stiles hadn’t quite adjusted. He heard the hiccups and thought it odd, but entirely human. But five feet from Stiles and he could hear him, smell him, but most of all Derek could sense him.

Stiles was crying. 

Derek froze. He didn’t know what was keeping him from turning and running in the other direction, away from Stiles and away from his life as a normal person. Who was he kidding. Derek would never be normal. Derek’s idea of normal was this relationship he had with someone he had never actually spoken to, not even a single word, not even his own name. Derek’s normal was being oddly attached to this boy who had just inserted himself into Derek’s life without a single warning. His normal was torn between pretending the past three weeks had never happened and walking over to Stiles and holding him because damn it if that isn’t exactly what Derek wanted to do. 

And that’s exactly what he did. He set the drinks down on the ground beside the bench and sat down. Stiles hadn’t even noticed he was there until Derek gently put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles jerked away reflexively as he hadn’t been expecting anyone to bother him at all, turning to Derek with big, brown tearful eyes and red tear-stained cheeks.

“D-Derek?” He stammered, his voice hoarse and trembling.

“Hey, Stiles.” Derek said quietly. 

Stiles said nothing more before collapsing into tears against Derek’s chest.

Derek said nothing as he held Stiles for hours, silently protecting him from whatever was breaking his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

The hot chocolates had long gone cold when the sun had finally started to sink behind the trees of the Beacon Hills Preserve. A cold chill crept through the town, but Derek felt nothing. He hadn’t even realized the temperature dropped until Stiles, who had finally stopped crying, started shivering. Stiles had stopped crying, but he made no move to pull away from Derek. 

Derek just held him tighter. 

“You’re cold?” Derek asked curiously, breaking the hours of silence they had shared. 

“Little bit, yeah.” Stiles responded, his voice quiet and lacking his normal enthusiastic tone. “I can’t help but notice that you’re not.” He said, pressing a hand to Derek’s chest. 

Derek shivered, but he wasn’t cold at all. Werewolves were veritable furnaces of body heat, yet one touch from Stiles sent an icy cold spike down Derek’s spine. 

“I’m always hot, actually.” 

“I’ve noticed.” Stiles said with a small smile, sitting up to face Derek. Derek hadn’t even realized what he had said until he said a mischievous spark flash in those big, brown eyes and then he immediately wished he could go back to not ever talking in front of Stiles again.

“I didn’t mean… that’s not… Body temperature. My body temperature is always hot.” He tried to correct himself, but he could already see that Stiles wasn’t going to let it go. 

“Sure. Among other things.” Stiles raised his eyebrows. Derek laughed. 

Derek couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like that. He hadn’t even remembered how good it felt to laugh and laugh hard, and soon he was laughing so hard he couldn’t stop. Stiles started laughing at Derek laughing. Had anyone walked by they would have thought they were insane, sitting on a bench at dusk laughing at seemingly nothing. 

Derek liked seeing Stiles laugh again. He hoped seeing Stiles laugh would erase the memory of Stiles crying because Derek couldn’t imagine how terrible something had to be to make the boy with the big, brown smiling eyes who chattered endlessly about comic books and fictional characters cry alone. 

When their ridiculous laughter subsided, the sun had disappeared behind the trees and Stiles started to shiver again. 

“You should probably get home or inside or something.” Derek said, taking off his jacket and offering it to Stiles. Normally Stiles wouldn’t have accepted, but the jacket was leather and warm and it smelled like Derek. 

Trees and chocolate and libraries of books and Derek. Even though Stiles would never admit that Derek had a smell. Or that he recognized it.

“Um, yeah. Thanks for… yeah.” He said as he shrugged the jacket on and pushed his arms through the sleeves, and for once, Stiles was the one who had trouble speaking. 

“No problem. See you tomorrow?” Derek asked as he stood up from the bench, not sure how to say goodbye or what to do. Should he leave the hot chocolates on the ground? Should he give Stiles a hug? Why hadn’t anyone prepared Derek for a real life social encounter. 

He blamed Laura. 

“Or… you could… my dad will be at the station all night so it’s just me for dinner. You could… If you want to… But you don’t have to…” Stiles rambled, looking intently at his feet as they traced circles in the dirt. Instinctively, Derek reached out and put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. He looked up.

“Stiles, I would love to come over for dinner.” He said with a smile. 

Stiles’ eyes, though tired and red, lit up in a way that Derek had never seen before. He must have been doing something right. 

They walked in near silence back to Stiles’ house, with Stiles asking the occasional question and Derek actually answering. Derek called Laura to say he wouldn’t be home for dinner and hung up before she could ask him a million questions about why. 

The Stilinski house was warm and comfortable, much like Derek’s house. He felt instantly relaxed when he walked in, but he couldn’t help but notice how empty it felt. Like something was missing. 

Stiles toed his shoes off by the front door and Derek did the same, following Stiles into the kitchen. Stiles hung Derek’s leather jacket on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and flipped the radio on as he started to scour the cabinets for food. The radio meant that neither of them had to talk, and it meant that Derek couldn’t ask about what happened today. Not that Derek had any intention of asking, but people were always asking Stiles. Always. 

That’s why he liked Derek so much. Derek never asked if Stiles was okay or why he had moved away or what had happened or anything like that. Derek, despite his best efforts to appear otherwise, just listened to Stiles. He listened to everything he said, and Stiles hadn’t had that in a long time. 

Derek watched Stiles cook and felt oddly useless that he couldn’t help. He had tried once, but Stiles just shooed him away, got him a Coke, and made him sit down at the table. Derek couldn’t help but notice that Stiles had obviously cooked before, his normal awkward hyperactivity fading away to focus. 

They on opposite sides of the table, silently eating spaghetti. Derek felt odd that they were sitting down and Stiles was saying absolutely nothing, absentmindedly twirling the pasta on his plate. 

“I used to play baseball,” he blurted, finally so uncomfortable with the silence that he had to fill it with something, even if it was a useless, irrelevant fact that had nothing to do with anything at all. Stiles looked up.

“Really?” He asked with a small smile. And then Derek thought maybe it wasn’t so useless or irrelevant at all.

“Yeah, when I was a kid. And a little bit in high school. But I didn’t do it for long because nobody wanted to play with the awkward guy who never talked.” Derek admitted. 

Stiles laughed quietly and took a bite of pasta. 

“So then I started running cross country and track because they didn’t involve talking or human contact at all.” 

Stiles laughed again and took another bite of pasta. 

Soon, Derek was telling Stiles about sports and high school and how awkward he was. He told Stiles the story of how Laura tried to help him be cool by letting him drive her Camaro to school, but he then everyone thought he was a snob so he just ate lunch in there instead. He told stories about Laura and his family, crazy stories about their Christmases and holidays. He even told Stiles about a few strange dates he had been on, careful not to mention Kate. Stiles didn’t need to know about Kate. 

Stiles listened while Derek talked, and instead of playing with his food he actually ate it. Derek talked until Stiles had eaten three plates of pasta and his eyes didn’t look so sad or distant anymore.

“My mom, she’s something else,” Derek had said after telling a story about how his mother almost set the kitchen on fire when she had tried to boil water one time. “She’s a lot of things, but a cook isn’t one of them.”

Stiles laughed again, but this time his laughter was quiet. Derek heard the skip in his heart beat whenever he talked about his mother. 

“Stiles, I…”

“No, Derek, it’s fine. Your mom sounds really great.” Stiles said with a smile as he got up from the table, taking his and Derek’s plates with him. Derek saw the tears forming in his eyes before he could turn away. 

“Stiles, let me help.” He said, getting up from the table and following Stiles into the kitchen.

“No, Derek it’s okay. I can do it. I’m fine.” 

“Stiles.” 

“Derek, just…”

“Stiles.” Derek said to Stiles’ back, as Stiles dropped the plates in the sink, the crashing flooding the room with terrible noise.

“My mom was a really good cook, Derek. She was the best. She could cook spaghetti that tasted like Italy. I don’t know what Italy even tastes like but I did whenever I ate her spaghetti. She was just that good, Derek. She was. And now she’s not. Because she’s gone. She’s gone and I forgot what Italy tastes like, Derek. I forgot.” 

Stiles’ hands grabbed the edge of the sink so hard his hands went white, and Derek didn’t know what to do. He had just been going on and on about how great his mother was to a boy who no longer had his. Derek wanted to throw up. 

He slowly walked up to Stiles and put his hands on his shoulders. 

“Stiles.”

“She’s gone,” was all Stiles said as he turned and cried into Derek’s chest for the second time that day. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and held him, knowing that there wasn’t a damned thing he could say to make it okay. 

After a while, Derek started to feel Stiles go slack in his arms. Stiles had cried himself into exhaustion and he couldn’t stand up any longer. Derek picked him up and carried him toward the couch, but Stiles shook his head.

“Upstairs, first door on the right.” Stiles mumbled, directing Derek to his room. 

Derek obeyed, taking Stiles upstairs and putting him down on his bed, carefully pulling a blanket over him just like Laura did whenever he was upset. He squeezed Stiles’ shoulder one last time before finally getting up to leave. 

“Stay.” 

“What?”

“Stay.” Stiles whispered, shifting to make room. 

Derek didn’t think twice before climbing into bed next to Stiles and holding him once more. It felt good and right and a million other things Derek hadn’t felt with anyone else. 

Derek fell asleep shortly after Stiles had started to drool on his chest. 

“Goodnight, Stiles.”


	6. Chapter 6

Derek woke up feeling so warm and so comfortable that it was almost a challenge for him to keep his eyes open. 

Except that Stiles’ eyes were open. Stiles’ eyes were very open.

“Stop staring at me.” Derek mumbled. Stiles scoffed. 

“Staring? I’m not… Okay, maybe a little bit. But have you seen you when you sleep?” Stiles said from beside Derek, where he had propped himself up on his elbow and had obviously been there for a while. 

“I don’t even know how to answer that.” 

“I do. I don’t even understand how people think you’re some big, scary, crazy dude because you look… honestly, you look like an angel when you sleep.”

Stiles let out a breathy laugh he had been holding in while Derek slept. Since he woke thirty minutes earlier, he had been struggling with waking Derek up and letting him sleep because he looked so damned peaceful it would have just been a crime to disturb him. And for some reason, Stiles felt that Derek just needed a little peace. 

And quiet.

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes as he kicked the blankets off his legs and tried to sit up. Stiles pressed an open hand against his chest and stopped him. 

“Ah, come on. I didn’t mean for you to… you can… should… stay for breakfast. Or something.” Stiles rambled, and suddenly Derek realized that Stiles Stilinski was an absolute magician with words until it came to asking Derek out. 

Stiles liked Derek. 

“Duh, he likes you!” Laura’s voice sounded in his head. “He spends the better part of every day talking at you and buying you… hot chocolate, and don’t worry, I won’t expand on that bro. He took you to his house, made you dinner, and you just spent the night in his bed… with him. I mean Christ’s sake, Derek, you’re lucky you have a pretty face because sometimes…”

“Shut up.” He grumbled because he wasn’t sure why Laura was in his head. At all. He hadn’t even told her about Stiles yet. He definitely would now. But maybe he would amend the order of events…

“Oh, okay. Or not. That’s… yeah, nevermind. Forget I asked… Thanks for…” Stiles mumbled, sinking back into his pillows. Derek, quickly realizing his mistake, clamped his hand over Stiles’ mouth.

“Breakfast sounds great.” He said with a smile. He felt Stiles smile underneath his hand, lips brushing against his palm. Derek could think of other places he wanted Stiles’ lips to brush against, but that would have to wait as Stiles’ stomach started to growl.

“Goo bsdlfkjco M stojflkn.” Stiles said. 

They both dragged themselves out of bed and Stiles politely excused himself to his bathroom, directing Derek to the hall bathroom downstairs. He also gave Derek clean clothes to wear, and even though Derek thought it hard to believe that he could fit into Stiles’ clothes, he took them anyways. 

Derek quickly washed up in the bathroom and to his surprise, Stiles’ shirt and plaid pajama pants fit perfectly, the pants hanging just below his hips. He heard the shower running upstairs and decided to start on breakfast himself. He had watched Stiles intently the night before and pretty much knew where everything was. 

Derek also couldn’t help but notice the note from the Sheriff on the counter.

Stopped by for a minute to change, didn’t want to wake you.  
Or your friend.  
Hope that’s the Derek you’ve been going on about. Seems like a nice guy.  
Call me and we can have lunch.  
-Dad

Derek caught himself smiling when he heard the shower turn off. He definitely needed to tell Laura about Stiles. And his parents. And possibly every random stranger he met on the street. 

Fifteen minutes later, Derek was flipping his third pancake, scrambling eggs, and frying some bacon when Stiles finally came down the stairs. Derek made a mental note that Stiles took forever to get ready. 

“Wow. Those pants look… wow.” Stiles said as he sauntered into the kitchen. He walked in, his hand curiously reaching out towards Derek, but then he stopped.

“What?” Derek asked, his glance shifting from Stiles’ wide eyes to his frozen hand. Stiles hand dropped to his side and he looked up at Derek.

“Just… come here.” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s shirt collar and smashing their lips together. 

Derek didn’t know how long he had been waiting to do that until Stiles actually did it. He felt like he was on fire. Like Stiles was a spark that was ignited something inside him. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles just as Stiles started to pull away, maybe out of confusion or maybe he wasn’t sure how Derek felt. 

The way Derek kissed him back made him sure. Teeth and tongues and lips and a million words that neither of them had said yet. They would. They would say them all. But right now, they didn’t need to. The way Stiles’ hands wandered beneath the edge of Derek’s waistband, tracing those hipbones he wanted to touch so badly. The way Derek’s hands grasped at Stiles’ shirt, holding on and never wanting to let go. When Stiles long fingers threaded through Derek’s hair and Derek kissed his way down Stiles jaw, his neck, to his collarbone. A thousand secrets shared and not a word was said.

This was Derek’s peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i'm so glad you all enjoyed this story! :)   
> just as soon as I finish my "happily never after" fic  
> I will begin the sequel to this one  
> thanks for all the kudos and sweet comments! :)


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